“A Refugee's Origin”
Arts Council of Greater Baton Rouge
Shell Gallery
Through May 29
Artist K.T.Ho has moved around a lot. Her family fled Vietnam during the Fall of Saigon when she was seven months old, stayed in a refugee camp in the Philippines before boarding a cargo ship to Guam, then headed to Canada.
“As soon as the plane landed in Canada, it was so fucking cold that my mom was like ‘Uh-uh. We’re not moving to Canada.'”
She made her father put in the visa application almost immediately but they weren't approved for another 13 years. They moved to Oklahoma, then Missississippi and Florida.
“I always wanted to be an artist, and my parents were like, ‘You can’t do that,’” she said. “You know how Asian parents are.”
Ho became a doctor. She’s lived in Baton Rouge since 1999 when she moved to do her residency. These days, she works as a rheumatologist at Our Lady. But art continued to call to her. She’s a self-taught mixed-media artist whose work has been shown in many of the places she’s lived. She finds art healing.
“One of my favorite sayings that I just learned is that 'If you don’t transmute, you transmit.' If you don’t heal yourself, you end up passing it on,” she said. “In order for my to be the best at my ob, I had to be able to heal myself first.”
Her latest show, "A Refugee's Origin” her own diasporic journey in three chapters plus an epilogue. It features 29 pieces including audio recordings, collage, photography and drawings reflecting on her family’s journey and the impact that French Colonialism has on them and the story of Vietnam. The opening reception was a joyous celebration featuring food from a new pop-up called Banh Mi Addictive and a dragon dance performance from Southern Lotus Lion Dance.
“Now that I'm old enough, this is what I want to do when I retire,” she continued. She’s now 51. “I want to have a full-time position as an artist.”
Her show ranged from whimsical watercolor portraits to a sculpture composed by a tower four rattan baskets that holds 96 blue baby dolls which symbolize each of the 96 hours her mother was in labor with her during the height of the Vietnam War in 1974. The sculpture was paired with an audio recreation of the coded broadcast played during the Fall of Saigon.
The sculpture both reflects on the work that she’s done as a doctor, the expectations that were placed on her and the work that others in her community do at nail salons and as minimum wage workers.
Despite the serious nature and themes of her art, it was an intergenerational and community event. Children were running around the gallery, eating eggrolls and banh mi. One child plucked a blue smurf off the “Nintety6 Blue Babies in Rattan Baskets” and started playing with it.
“He used to play with these before they became art,” the child’s father said by way of explanation, putting it back down.
And it didn’t feel out of place. Ho bent down to meet kids at eye level, she greeted them by name and took visible delight in their presence. She said hello to their stuffed dogs and toys. There were no formal speeches or talks. People cycled in and out and asked her questions. There was so much life in the room, and people engaged in the story that her art was telling. It’s a beautiful gift to the community to kick off an important show.
